A Brother's Promise
by Laylah
Summary: Dark undertones, dark Dante, the slow descent into madness. Updated. R&R if you like.
1. Never Leave Me

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_The platinum-haired boy swung his toy sword wildly with glowing enthusiasm, his brilliant blue eyes locked onto his imaginary enemy. Driving the sword through the "monster"s chest, the boy shouted in triumph._

"_Woohoo! Hey Vergil, another down! Watch me, I'm legendary dark knight Dante, just like dad!" Dante smiled with pure childish glee._

_The older twin grinned slightly and raised his own wooden sword, charging at his brother with mock ferocity._

_The two swords collided, laughing azure and cool cerulean stared into each other defiantly, teeth gritted in tension of their "battle". _

"_Better surrender and save yourself the humiliation, Dante, you know I always win!" Vergil said with a smug look on his face._

"_Why, getting tired already Verge? Is that all you've got?" Dante taunted with a sneer._

_Finally, Vergil forced Dante back, and since he was caught off balanced, gave him a nice shove. Dante landed on his butt, a red blush sweeping across his face as he rubbed at his backside._

"_Wow, you actually lasted a minute longer than I've anticipated!" Vergil snickered, hands on his hips. "But don't worry Dante, with my help, you'll become stronger, and when I become a demon prince, I'll make you the general of my armies." _

_His triumph was short-lived, however, as Dante swiftly charged forward and tackled his twin._

" _Oh yeah? How do you like this, your majesty? " Dante chuckled._

_Vergil fell to the ground face-first, and shot him an artic glare, then the corners of his lips began to twitch with mirth, laughing with his brother. To his surprise, a strange, forlorn look entered Dante's eyes, banishing the warm cheer from his young face._

"_You won't leave me and mum, will you Verge, you know, when you become a devil-prince?" He asked quietly, his voice no more resembling a 10 year old's._

"_Of course not, you dummy. We're twins." Vergil replied with amusement, his twin could be so naïve sometimes._

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise."_

_

* * *

_

Dante's eyes snapped open to the darkness of his room, lit partially by the cheerless, faded light of the moon filtering through the grimy window. He pulled back the covers and rubbed his face. His snowy white locks were drenched with perspiration.

A quick glance to the digital clock revealed the time; still witching hour. Outside, a semi-truck's horn blared loudly and faded into the distance, the rain drizzled steadily.

He dragged himself into the bathroom, flicking the light on. The cold blue fluorescent light flooded the room instantly, causing Dante to shut his eyes against it before his senses adjusted to the artificial brightness.

He splashed water on his face, and inspected his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Scrubbing his fingers through his ruffled hair, he smoothed it back from his face, frowning slightly. A few wayward locks refused to flatten, standing in random spikes.

The full lips were devoid of his casual smile, the edges drooping down, and a grim austerity masking his face.

The image that stared back from the polished depths seemed distant, cold. The blue eyes were a pale grey, dull and vacant.

A face he recognized as his dead twin brother's.

He shook his head, trying to clear his sleep-addled mind, but the haunting visage would not go away.

The reflection seemed an echo of his murky soul, of a burden too deep.

Frustrated, Dante smashed his fist into the glass; its surface cracked, but somehow did not shatter.

Blood instantly bloomed on his knuckles, slowly running down his hand. Pain was something Dante had gotten used to a long time ago.

Then, another presence tugged at the edges of his awareness. He realized he was being watched.

Trish.

She was a quiet, solitary figure standing in the doorway, her sea-blue eyes filled with concern, moonlight spilling over her slender frame, and the golden veil of her hair.

"I heard the noise, and I just wanted to see if you were okay…" She said softly.

"I'm fine." Dante said stiffly. She was his confidante, a valuable ally, but sometimes she fussed over him like a baby, which he found exceedingly irritating.

Trish fell quiet, her lips tightening as she stifled a sigh. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

It was hard to watch your loved one slowly turn into someone else. Since their return from Mallet Island, things rapidly went downhill. The first few months were bliss, Trish cherished his company, finding a great friend in her saviour.

Then, things began to change. It was minor things at first, like suddenly giving up his usual sleek attire of crimson and red leathers, adopting a more severe, blue and black apparel instead. Then he became more aloof, withdrawing into a world she was not a part of, his easy, jovial attitude shadowed by a dark, brooding persona.

Dante saw her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, how vulnerable she looked now, this she-devil, almost as miserable and wretched as a human….

His jaw set firmly, wondering at the unusual course of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Trish. I'm just a bit rundown, that's all." He murmured.

"I understand."

_No Trish, you can't …You don't have a family; you couldn't possibly claim to know the depths of my pain, my loss…_

He drew near, and held her to him, tilting his head to hers, rubbing his hands down her back affectionately. Trish nestled close, sinking into his embrace.

"Never leave me, Trish." He whispered into her hair, his voice hushed, broken.

"I won't, Dante."

Before he surrendered himself to the oblivion of a troubled sleep, Dante thought he heard a vague, omnipresent voice whispering, haunting, and coiling inside his mind.

_Like I promised, brother, I will never leave you..._

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	2. Sorrow Has No Season

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for encouraging reviews, guys, I was pondering making this a multi-chaptered fic, actually, so, Seeker must have read my mind there. This chap's written a little more simply, and Dante is dark as promised.**

–**some might think he's a bit ooc, but that's just the way I see him- Also, I've added Trish's emotional struggle as well. **

**I hope you enjoy this. Remember, reviews are always welcome, and inspire me to write more. Please do let me know if you like it.

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Trish stepped out of the mall, looking over her shoulder warily at those on the street before she began walking down the sidewalk. One hand rested on her backpack strap that was slung over her shoulder, a shopping bag that contained a brand new pair of supple black gloves, the latest cd by his favourite band for Dante's birthday, and a bottle of his favourite bourbon clutched in her left hand.

It was getting dark, shadows deepening. Trish felt right at home.

She and Dante had become creatures of the night, spending most of the day asleep, exhausted, and handling the "local concerns" after daylight.

A light mid-April drizzle began to fall, and she tipped her black cowboy hat down a little bit to keep the rain from falling on her face.

Today, she didn't mind the rain so much.

Today, she would break the barriers Dante had erected between them in the past few months.

She was determined to make things right again, for both of them. She couldn't sit and watch him brood over his past. She cared about him.

She cared about him a lot.

If only Dante could see that, she thought to herself, suppressing a wistful sigh. When he looked at her, all he saw was a friend, sometimes even worse; a mother, even though they were pretty much the same age.

Why couldn't he see that she was more than that? Why did he refuse to see her for what she truly was; a woman?

In an effort to make herself more attractive for his birthday, she had tied her cascading golden hair back in a high pony tail, dark make-up outlined her eyes, and her usual choice of black leather outfit was replaced by a more elegant, but practical pair of dark red velvet pants that accentuated her slender figure, and a crimson corset.

Hurrying through the traffic, she crossed the street and with a smile, headed for Devil Never Cry.

* * *

Night had embraced the city by the time Trish got home. 

Shrugging the backpack off her shoulder, she dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter and went upstairs. She paused outside Dante's bedroom door and knocked lightly.

When there was no reply, she quietly opened the door and let herself in, casting a glance around.

The room was ill-lighted and empty. The curtains were tightly drawn, and strangely enough, there wasn't a single take-out container or any other rubbish in sight. Even the bed was made, and desk wiped clean; its only ornament a framed picture of Dante's mother, Eva.

She carefully trod over to the desk, and nearly jumped in surprise when she heard Dante's voice behind her.

She waited for the vicious session of tickling followed by a warm hug, just like he did after every time he sneaked up on her.

Instead, he just stood by the door, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Where've you been, if you don't mind me asking?" His voice was decidedly flat, coldly polite.

Trish was quiet for a moment or so. Dante looked breathtaking as always, but in a different, more imposing, dangerous kind of way, in his blues and blacks. His twin pistols were buckled to his belt. Low lamplight caused shadows to flicker and dance about him as he moved quietly with a predator-like grace. Trish wanted to reach out and smooth those errant spikes of white hair.

"Out." She said, tilting her head up and smiling at him from under the brim of her hat.

_And where exactly is that, my dear? What are you concocting behind my back?_

"I can see that." Dante said softly, and stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him and –much to Trish's surprise- locking it.

She watched apprehensively as he slowly made his way over.

"You still haven't answered my question." He murmured.

Trish raised a gold-brown eyebrow. "But I just did…I told you I was out."

"I'm afraid that's not a satisfactory answer, Trish. Out could refer to a number of places." He said in a cold, calculated voice, and crossed the room with soft strides, retrieving Force Edge from its place. Trish saw that the hand that closed over the hilt was clad in a fingerless glove of worn, light brown leather.

_Wherever he got that from…_

Her instinct told her this was not the time to play games, but she did not want to spoil his birthday surprise either.

"I was just getting some groceries done." She replied.

Dante nodded slightly, as if some inner suspicion had just been confirmed, and ran his fingertips down the length of the sharp, cold blade, caressingly.

"You do love me, don't you Trish?" He asked abruptly, distractedly, his voice a deliberate low murmur.

"Yes." She said, stumbling over the word, a sudden quiver creeping into her voice. Then she cleared her throat and repeated, more strongly, and firmly.

"Yes, I do, Dante."

He seemed satisfied with her answer, nodding again, to himself. With a swift alacrity, he raised the blade and levelled the sharp, deadly tip to her slender throat.

Caught completely off-guard, Trish took a reflexive step back, her eyes widening in growing apprehension.

"My mother loved me too. And she paid the price for it; Mundus killed her." Dante said, his voice shaded by an emotion that made her want to pull him into a tight embrace, and recoil from him at the same time.

"You wouldn't betray me, would you, Trish?" He asked in an acidic tone, taking a step forward.

Alarmed, Trish took another step back and encountered the hard, solid wall.

Reluctantly she was reminded of her deception in Mallet Island. Dante must have been thinking the same, for his eyes suddenly froze like glittering blue ice shards.

"What are you doing, Dante?" She inquired lowly in kind, frowning lightly. His assumption that she could betray him in such a fashion again angered and saddened her.

_What am I doing indeed? Holding my best friend at sword point…_

His face paled, and Dante lowered the Force Edge slowly, propping it against the desk. An unnerving, uncomfortable silence fell heavy between them.

The clock on the wall continued to tick by.

He felt guilt stinging him, words of apology for his odd behaviour formed on his lips.

And he remained quiet.

"Happy Birthday, Dante." She said finally, producing the shopping bag that contained his presents, and forcing a feeble smile.

Dante ignored the bag extended to him, and took her face between his hands, looking into her startled, soft blue eyes.

_Vergil, Dante, happy birthday… _A spectral female voice whispered…

When she placed her hand on his, arching her head up into his hand, he let her go just as suddenly.

_What am I to do with you Trish…_He sighed, his eyes fixed on his mother's picture.

_Watch her carefully, my brother…Don't get too attached, lest she betrays you again. _

_Love will hinder you, it will cripple you, and leave you weak, defenceless._

_It's either love, or power._

_You can't have both._

_Without power, your crusade is lost._

_Remember, might controls everything…And without strength, you cannot protect anything…_

_Let alone yourself…

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	3. Nightfall Memories

**Author's note: Hello again guys! Insomnia sucks, I'm afraid this chapter's a product of my sleep deprived brain, so I can only hope you will like it..-hides-  
**

**Well, the metamorphosis continues, this time without Trish. Please read on…**

**Special thanks to Seeker and Cosmic Water. You know you rock!

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_They were screaming his name in pure, fervent adoration, the crazy fans that swarmed the mosh pit, going wild to Dante's music. Riff after riff of metal assault blasted from the massive speakers. Dante was on his knees on stage, his long fingers dancing over the electric guitar's battered strings with lightning speed and masterful finesse…._

"_DANTE!"_

_Someone was indeed screaming his name._

_Very loudly._

_Instead of young, pretty, sweaty fan girls, Dante awoke to find Vergil trying to find his way around a mountain pile of dirty laundry, empty pizza cartons and various other trash that cluttered the 17 year old's room._

_The silver haired young man flicked one eye open, muttering into his pillow grumpily. He suffered from a filthy hangover, a splitting headache, and was in desperate need of sleep._

"_Go pester someone else, Vergil, I'm hammered…" Dante regarded his brother with bleary eyes._

"_Dante, do you have any idea what time it is?" Vergil glowered, opening the curtains and letting the bright midday sunshine flood the room._

"_I don't care!" Dante wailed and grumbled as sunlight glared into his eyes, rolling over and preparing to drift back to sleep._

"_Dante, it's nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Mum's going ballistic."_

"_Right… Give me a sec." Dante sighed, rubbing his face groggily. He stretched languidly with a loud yawn and straightened in the bed._

_He reached for the painkiller on the bedside table and washed the pill down with some water from a glass Vergil provided._

"_Dante, I need you to do me a favour." Vergil said casually._

_Too casually._

_Something was up._

"_Yeah?" He yawned tiredly, cracking his neck._

"_I need you to take my girlfriend out to dinner tonight." Vergil said, his face unreadable, passive._

_Dante's eyes opened wider as he stared at his twin incredulously. He couldn't have been more shocked if Vergil had just announced he was having a sex change. Initially, he thought this was some kind of prank, but Vergil was a serious young man with no nonsense attitude._

"_Uh, come again, Verge?"_

"_You heard me." Vergil said stiffly._

"_You really have a girlfriend? How come I don't know anything about it?" Dante asked with an ill-concealed hurt look._

_Since when did Vergil keep secrets from him? _

"_Dante, just because we are twins it doesn't mean we should be in each others' pockets all the time. Anyway, that's beside the point. Will you hear me out?" Vergil said brusquely._

"_Sure…"_

"_I promised Lily I'd take her out to dinner for our first anniversary, but I've got heaps of assignments due Monday." Vergil sighed._

"_Don't tell me you're going to spend Saturday night studying…" Dante blinked._

"_I plan on doing exactly just that." Vergil said firmly.  
_

"_Ok o.k. I get it. But, why do you want me to take her out, I mean, she's your girlfriend, Verge." Dante mumbled sleepily._

"_Dante, haven't you been listening to a word I said for the past five minutes?" Vergil frowned, and seated himself on the bed next to Dante, carrying on in a calmer, cooler tone._

"_Look, we're twins; she won't know the difference, if that's what you're worried about."_

"_Hold on a sec there, you actually want me to pretend that I'm you?"_

"_Jackpot." Vergil said dryly, rolling his eyes._

_Seeing Dante frown at this thoughtfully, he offered a controlled smile._

"_It's not like we haven't done it before." Vergil coaxed gently._

"_Yeah, but this is your girlfriend we're talking about here, Verge. I mean, that's pretty slack. Why don't you just simply tell her the truth?"_

_Vergil's clear blue eyes flashed with sudden irritation._

"_I should've known better than to ask for your help!" He snapped coldly._

"_Wait! Okay, I'll do it…It's just that…"_

"_Don't worry; we're identical twins, Dante. As long as you behave decently, and keep up the act, she won't suspect a thing." He said hurriedly.  
_

_Dante regarded his brother warily…He never thought Vergil could be so conniving…_

"_Well, can you handle it?" Vergil asked, in his voice rising a faint tone of challenge as he grinned softly._

_Dante sighed. He felt hurt and betrayed. _

_What was this sudden talk of having a girlfriend? They had each other, and it should have been enough. _

_It was more than enough for Dante.__ We were more than brothers, Vergil. We were soul mates, you and I. We were the perfect harmony of opposites…he thought silently.  
_

"_Sure, Verge. What are brothers for…?"

* * *

_

Dante snapped out of his reverie, turning the basement light on.

The bulb flickered once, and died.

Dante found some candles at the back, lighting them, he arranged them on the floor. Glancing at the door, ensuring it was locked; he sat on the dusty steps of the basement, pulling the large cardboard boxes stuffed with Vergil's personal effects in front of him.

He placed a smaller box in his lap, and began rummaging through. Occasionally, he paused to take large swigs from the bottle of bourbon Trish had got him for his birthday. A cigarette rested between his lips, which he puffed on deeply from time to time.

His fingers touched the dust and cobweb covered textbooks…

Vergil's textbooks…His essays; written in that bold, professional, slanted black script of his…His cds…A samurai drawing he'd done in year eight…

Dante flicked the ashes from his cigarette and pulled out a half-empty jar of hair gel tucked at the very bottom, smiling to himself in astonishment. He flicked open the lid, smelling the noxious stuff…

Smelling memories…

* * *

_Dante glided the razor smoothly down his lathered cheek, whistling softly, glancing at his twin frequently in the bathroom mirror, registering his every move, taking in all the details._

_Vergil scowled in pure concentration as he gelled his hair back with precise perfection. He was always so immaculately groomed, while Dante was happy with a power shower and a shave._

_Vergil was always trendy, always darkly hip, while Dante was in the habit of wearing clothes that were totally and utterly lacking in good taste or dress sense._

_How beautiful he looked, as he continued to apply that sticky gel to his silky locks, his features twisted in concentration, as though hewn by a master sculptor._

"_Hey Verge, have you met our creepy neighbours yet? I swear, the father looks like something out of Beetlejuice. Mum said to keep away from them, she says something's not right about them." Dante began by way of conversation, then elbowed his twin, grinning widely._

"_As I was saying, the father's totally whacked. I swear, he looks like an undertaker, and keeps talking about the spiritual corruption of the world, whatever that means…"_

"_What's he preaching?" Vergil asked distractedly._

"_I don't know, maybe he's a member of some weird doomsday cult or something."_

"_Dante, those so-called cults are mostly harmless. Leaders claim they're god, or one of his disciples. As long as you're willing to sit through boring speeches of how he'll redeem the world, it's all right. Then you got your creepy cults. Figureheads often demand blood and sacrifice as a sign of fealty, and members are fanatically loyal. I doubt we've got anything to worry about, period." Vergil said to Dante's reflection in the mirror._

_The half-demon studied his twin with a long, thoughtful look as he continued shaving. How did Vergil know so much about all this crap…?

* * *

_

Dante sighed and dropped the jar back into the box. Vergil hadn't plunged into the world of chaos in one day; his corruption had been a slow, subtle slide into abyss.

Dante wondered when it all began, sighing mournfully…

_It's my fault. I should have known…I let you down, brother._

From the depths of the box, he drew out a zippo engraved with an eagle and a V, and a matching silver tobacco case.

_Happy birthday Vergil…_

He fell into a silent reverie, watching the gauzy tendrils of cigarette smoke, taking another deep drag, he exhaled slowly.

Hot tears streamed down his face.

_I should have saved you, Vergil…This is my entire fault._

The lit candles flickered eerily, shadows thrashed about.

A savage gust of wind howled outside.

An uneasy feeling swept over him, and Dante glanced about the dingy basement.

_You can make it up to me, brother._

_It was Mundus that dragged us all down this hellish path._

_He must be destroyed in his own plane to put an end to this madness._

_Kill Mundus, finish him off once and for all…_

_For both of us... _

Dante's bloodshot blue eyes searched the darkness. "How? Tell me, Vergil? How!" He addressed the empty basement.

_You have the two amulets, brother, and our father's blood._

_Think._

_Think carefully._

"I shall avenge you, Vergil. I promise." Dante avowed solemnly, and extinguished the candles...

For the first time in ages, he felt alive again.

He had a purpose...

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	4. Dead Hopes and Raging Ghosts

**Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry this is a short lil chappie, but just another episode of tragedy; Trish is getting fed up with Dante, but she still loves him to death, Dante doesn't see he's losing a good friend, etc and so the story continues. Yeah, as you might have guessed, I need sleep!**

**VergilSparda666 and Seeker: Thank you so much, your support means a lot to me!**

**Inujak: Thanks for the review! –dies- Trust me, I know he needs Lady/Mary's blood as well, but that's one of the major twists in the story…Aw damn, I'm giving away too much! No more! My lips are sealed!  
**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!

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Trish twisted in bed restlessly, listening to the sounds of night breathing outside the house and inside her mind.

Dante was gone again.

Ever since he emerged from that dusky, cramped basement, his change took a dramatic turn for the worse. He had become more sullen, detached and sarcastic.

He suffered from terrible nightmares with increasing frequency. More than once she caught him staring hollowly into nothingness, smoking Vergil's cigarettes, afterwards crying himself to sleep.

Despite everything, he was still cooperative when it came to hunting demons. He worked with admirable efficiency with his partner, and even his friendly, playful attitude resurfaced every now and then.

Though it was lacking in warmth, sincerity; something was missing from the demon-hunter's spirit.

Then he began to just disappear, leaving Trish alone to her dark thoughts, sometimes he would be gone for days at a time.

Something else disturbed Trish.

Something that frightened her...

He hunted the demons with that same old, righteous, zealous fire of his, but that fire burned with a scorching ruthlessness, and a cold callousness, searing Trish with its intensity.

Sometimes, he didn't kill the demons outright; instead he delighted in their agonized wails, until it no longer amused him. Force Edge became a brutal instrument of torture in his deft hands.

A perfect, inhuman torture only high ranking, pure bred demon lords were capable of inflicting.

Trish kept reminding herself that Dante's condition was temporary, that this freak phase would eventually go away.

It tore her apart, watching him slowly degenerate into the fiend whose name she could not bring herself to utter, but it echoed through her thoughts anyway.

Like bitter venom was his name, she glimpsed _his_ mark, the dark shade sorrow-borne, self destructive and triumphant, beneath the pale azure eyes.

She wanted to hold Dante tight, kiss those devil-tears away, and whisper words of comfort to his ear.

If only he'd let her.

Trish stilled, lying motionless, staring up at the ceiling when she heard the slamming of a heavy door echoing downstairs. She slid out of bed and tiptoed her way down.

Dante walked in, blood and rain dripping off his blue trench, his white hair was caked with russet-crimson streaks, blood running down his face which was twisted with rage and tears.

He panted like a wild animal; his eyes shining with a feral blue light that was slowly dimming as they fell on Trish.

He removed his gloves and tossed them onto the desk. The twin pistols followed, landing next to the beige leather gloves.

Trish saw that silencers had been screwed onto the guns.

_Oh God…_

"What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick, Dante!" Trish began, her eyes widening with confusion.

"Shut up!" Dante snarled suddenly through clenched teeth, tearing his gaze away from her.

Trish staggered backward, feeling the bluish electric violence pulse around him.

The awful, consuming silence enveloped the two.

Dante anticipated the bitter reprisal, he welcomed it. But, all Trish offered was a sad, reproachful look.

Regret constricted his heart, and he started towards her slowly, and unsurely, holding out his hand apologetically.

"Don't touch me!" Trish blanched, running upstairs. She paused on the landing, turning halfway round, tears frozen in her sea-blue eyes.

"I don't know who you are anymore, Dante." She whispered. He mouth opened again, but words died on her lips.

Dante watched her go.

His face; a deadly shade of pale, was devoid of emotion as he slammed his fist into the wall.

Then he slumped in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, his head between his hands, his eyes closing.

_I don't even know who I am anymore…

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	5. Don't Say Goodbye

**Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry for the late update, straight 9 hr shifts suck. I'm overjoyed you are liking this. **

**Kerrianne Harrington: Thank you, I try. **

**inujak: Thanks. . From a young and arrogant smartass rebel in DMC3, Dante evolves into this mature, level-headed, slightly brooding demon hunter in DMC1. After all that happened, I don't really blame him. **

**Sessol Seeker: Yes, Dante's about to get a little darker. Hope you like! Thanks for reading ! –hugs-  
SaiyAsianMaki: -nods- Same here.  
Morwen: Aw thanks so much! Hope you enjoy!**

** You'll let me know if you like, won't you? Ta.

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"_I don't know who you are anymore, Vergil!" Cried Dante, his voice anguished. "You act like a stranger; you don't even bother to have the decency to answer me!" Dante dashed after his brother, who was heading for the front door. Clad in his favourite blue trench coat, Vergil seemed completely oblivious to his brother's nagging; much to the 18 year-old half-demon's annoyance._

"_Where the hell are you going? Just answer me, damnit!" Dante carried on, following his brother. Vergil continued to ignore him, his hand closing over the door knob._

_Vergil paused briefly, glancing at his brother over his shoulder, his features unreadable._

_"I really don't want to discuss this right now, Dante." Vergil said briskly. He was not in the mood to come up with yet another elaborate lie. _

_"You don't want to dis..?" Dante began, waving his hands in a wild, frustrated gesture._

"_Oh what the bloody hell… You don't want to do anything with me or mother anymore Vergil! Let alone "discuss" a..."_

_"Not now, brother." Vergil cut smoothly, his cool, low voice tinged with a dark, slightly vexed tone._

_"I'm sick of this Vergil, don't brush me off like that! The world doesn't revolve around you!"_

_"But it soon will..." Vergil whispered ever so softly, more to himself than Dante, his voice barely audible. He opened the door, feeling the cool night air wash over him with its icy fumes._

_Dante sprang forward and blocked Vergil's path out of the door._

"_Vergil, I repeat, what's the meaning of these nocturnal vanishings? You don't come home till dawn…I don't know what you've told mum, but whatever it is, I'm not buying it, Verge! I know something's up." Dante pressed, growing more anxious about his twin's odd demeanour by the moment._

_"Step aside, Dante." Vergil's eyes flashed like blue slivers of ice._

_"No! Until you tell me what the hell is going on, I'm not letting you go anywhere! C'mon Verge, we're twins for gods' sake, I've a right to know!"_

_"Can you get any more pathetic, Dante? Look at you, snivelling like a low human. Get your act together, for once, and start acting like a true devil's descendant. That said, I'm under no obligation to tell you anything let alone…" Vergil replied crisply, but he never got to finish his sentence._

_Dante delivered a solid punch to Vergil's jaw, causing the older twin to stumble, eliciting a low grunt of pain._

_"Mother's a "low human" too, or have you forgotten that little detail eh Verge?" Dante growled, his blue eyes blazing._

_The unexpected flash of steel pinned Dante to his spot before he could advance on his twin. _

_Vergil, with inhuman speed, had reached into the folds of his long blue trench and drawn a vicious looking katana. There was a sudden pressure in the air around him, pulsing eerily with a dark intensity._

_"I warn you, Dante, step in my path again and I swear I will..." He trailed off, putting his blade away just as suddenly, his eyes flashing to Eva, who had just rushed downstairs to see what the racket was about, her eyes widening in fear and confusion at the unexpected scene of her sons' violent conflict unfolding before her eyest._

_"What? What are you gonna do? Are you going to kill me, huh, Vergil?" Dante growled, his eyes welling up with frustrated tears as he did so._

_He was better off dead than suffer this nightmare._

_Vergil shot one final glance to his brother, a sudden, brief semblance of pain flashed through glassy blue eyes, then, rubbing his aching jaw, he walked past him without further word._

_Between anguished, ragged sobs, Dante heard the door slamming angrily, Vergil's footsteps fading away…

* * *

_

_Hours later, the fountain of Devil tears had dried, leaving Dante with a cold, numb ache in his chest._

_He tried to ignore the pain, even as he ignored his brother, who had just entered his room in total silence._

_The mattress creaked quietly as Vergil sat on the bed, his rigid pose outlined gracefully against the moonshine that leaked through the open window._

_"Hey..." Dante whispered, his stern glance softening somewhat._

_Vergil gazed at his brother, his sour mood dissolving._

_"I'm sorry." His lips moved silently. Dante could feel an unspeakable burden weighing heavily on Vergil's mind._

"_So am I…" He whispered back. "Just tell me what's happening, Vergil. I know something's bothering you…Come on man, just talk to me…"_

_The young man bowed his head in deep thought. In a rare show of affection, Vergil laid his hand on Dante's shoulder._

"_You're right, Dante. I don't even know who I am sometimes…" His voice quivered._

_Dante drew a deep, empathic sigh, patting him on the back._

"_Don't worry, Verge, I'll always be there for you. All you have to do is be honest with me..."

* * *

_

Dante palmed his tears away, frowning deeply. He made his way up the stairs and stepped quietly behind Trish, who was staring out of the window mutely, lost in contemplation.

In the dark.

"I'm so sorry." She heard him whisper.

Trish sighed, berating herself inwardly for not being able to stay mad at him.

This time, she truly wished she could.

It would make things easier.

Turning around, she slowly extended her hand to touch him in reassuring tenderness, but hastily withdrew, painfully remembering that Dante didn't like being touched anymore.

Quickly, he reached out, and clasped his hand tightly over hers, squeezing warmly, fingers lacing. His free hand stroked the flaxen hair which fell straight down her back.

Like a brother would to his sister…

"Listen…I don't want to hurt you Trish… I'll set you up somewhere else until I sort things out." Dante said in a low voice.

Her silence was broken by a strangled sob.

Alarmed, Dante drew his gaze to her face.

"I miss you, Dante. I miss you so much. I…I just want to be there for you…But you never let me. Now you want me to go."

_Never leave me, Trish…_

"It's only for a little while, I promise."

Trish pulled away, and nodded. "Very well, I give up. I'll go and get my things." She said hollowly.

The wind was now a hushed breeze, rustling the only tree outside The skeletal branches stirred with a low moan, much like a man's final, dying sigh.

"You don't have to go so soon…"

"Sooner the better..." She brushed past Dante without looking at him.

Dante's lips compressed as he watched her go in her room to pack her stuff.

Eva's room.

_The sooner I'm out of your life, the better…for both of our sakes…_

_But, Trish, I will not say goodbye._

_Please don't say goodbye…_


	6. Old Friends And Twisted Fates

**Author's Note: Back with an even more miserable, heart-rending chapter. Gawd can I get any more depressing...Dante's identity crisis is taking on a more sinister tone, things are really getting out of hand this time.**

**I hope you guys enjoy. That's all I care.**

**Morwen: Thanks verry muchly indeed! It's an honour to be reviewed by one of my favourite authors:)**

**sessmaruspunk: Many thanks, hope you enjoy.**

**Please review guys!

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**

It had been a whole week since she'd been gone.

Hours and days were spent in complete solitude, sometimes; Dante wouldn't even pick up the phone, -which rang persistently- but just move through the house, -which was suddenly all too empty and quiet- like a ghost, isolated in his private world of misery.

This afternoon, however, Dante was set on making amends by calling Trish to see how she was holding up.

He dialled her number, but her cell was turned off.

He looked around the empty shop, slamming the phone down and tossing the empty bottle of Jack Daniels onto the desk, after draining the remainder.

He rubbed his face, and then raked his hair back with a sigh. His face was taut with anger, and he kicked a chair out of his way in violent, impotent rage.

There was the creaking of a door opening, and Dante immediately fixed his gaze on the shop's entrance.

The woman who just entered was gracefully slender, of medium height, dressed casually in faded jeans, a white tank top and a hooded black jacket. Although he couldn't see her face, his guess was that she had to be in her early thirties.

Very few people ventured into this part of town, let alone visit his shop; and his business was always conducted over the phone.

Dante was intrigued by his unexpected visitor.

"Welcome to Devil Never Cry. Can I help you with something?" Dante offered with little enthusiasm, looking her over. She seemed unarmed.

Blue-brown eyes peered out from under the black hood curiously, glancing about, and then settled on Dante, her face turning an ashen shade at the sight, which was a vision sprung from her deepest, nightmarish memories. Thanks to his demon blood, Dante seemed to have aged little over the years. But the lines on his brow gave away his long suffering.

"Even a devil may cry, when he loses a loved one…" She whispered, pulling her hood back.

"Mary?" Dante stared at his old friend in complete astonishment. It had been so long…

The first thing he noticed was her lustrous raven hair, cropped closely around her gentle face. Mary had aged gracefully; it appeared, her delicate beauty matured and refined into porcelain loveliness, with little lines creasing the smooth skin. Her fiery aura had mellowed a little over the years too it seemed. Only her exotic eyes reflected a secret sorrow he could not fathom.

"Hello, Dante. I've been trying to call you, but you never pick up." She said, the beginning of a smile curving her lips, surprised even more at his sombre quietness. Dante had always been a wise guy and was known for his easy attitude, but now he just looked at her with an uncomfortable smile as though she was a stranger.

"What are you doing here..?"

_She has come to me…It must be fate…_

Mary glanced at her friend, then to the grisly demonic trophies decorating the walls, slowly moving across to him.

"I was in the area, I thought I'd drop by and catch up."

"Funny, I've never heard you lie before, Mary." Dante said lowly.

The demon huntress gave him a thoughtful glance.

"Actually, your friend Trish…She rang me…" Mary chewed on her lip with a frown.

"Trish? How the hell do you guys know each other? What in the bloody hell is going on here?" Dante interrupted with a snarl.

"You didn't let me finish. She's worried about you, Dante. And so am I." Mary said with a firm, genuine concern. She saw his eyes flare a dangerous shade of arctic blue.

"Now you've crossed the line there! This is getting so annoying! Don't you guys have anything better to do? Besides, I thought you hated demons, Mary, or have you forgotten?" His silvery white brows knitted in a frown.

"Dante, I don't believe I'm hearing this. I never thought you to be a quitter, but look at you! Trish was right! You're miserable!" Mary sighed. "You have to accept the reality of the situation and move on. That's why I'm here…I don't want to see you like this."

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?" He asked darkly, his eyes were a shadowy blue.

"Stop it, Dante. Vergil's dead! I understand your grief, but yours is a morbid obsession! And…it's scaring me. Please Dante, come back to me, to us, to the people who love you and want to see you happy…"

"No…" He whispered brokenly.

_I am not dead._

_Not dead._

Dante leaned against his desk, suddenly feeling ill, bile churning in his throat. He covered his face with his hands for a moment, his head spinning…Her voice seemed to come from far away…

Time seemed to stand still…

All of a sudden he felt her cool touch on his fingers, and he dropped his hands, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Mary was looking at him strangely, pressing against him with a sultry demand, cupping his smooth cheek and leaning in to flick her tongue lightly over his ear as she whispered.

"Enough of old times…You've always wanted me, haven't you, Dante?" She whispered lustily. "Tell me you want me. Do you want me? Answer me!" Her whisper grew fiercer as she placed her hand on his crotch stroking him slowly through his leather pants.

Dante threw his head back, groaning quietly with the whirlwind of sensations assaulting his mind. What the hell was happening?

She crushed her firm breasts into his chest, fingers beginning to unbuckle his belt. Her lips continued to move over his with a teasing softness.

Dante opened his eyes, breathing heavily with years of suppressed desire.

He stared into her face.

He stared into the white, featureless white mask of cold porcelain…

Her eyes were empty pools of blackness.

The mask let out a low chuckle, which sounded like nails being scraped across a chalkboard.

Eyes widening in sick disgust, Dante pushed the _thing _away, knocking her backwards to the ground.

Force Edge appeared in his hand a moment later, and was pointed at the hissing demonic creature.

"Stay back, demon! How dare you take her visage, you scum!" Dante growled, and rammed the blade through the _monster's_ chest, piercing into the ribs.

There was a moment's absolute silence.

First, the beautiful, bi-coloured light of her eyes, wide in disbelief and agony, dimmed.

Blood flowed forth from the soft mouth, leaking out rapidly, dripping onto her white top and staining it with crimson specks.

Then she crumpled over, falling onto her back, her head hitting the floor with a dull, awful thud.

Panic gripped Dante with icy claws, and he staggered back, his hands trembled, dropping the blade.

The sword fell onto the wooden floor with a loud clang.

The unholy fog of the delirium faded from his troubled mind…

Dante stared in shock, realizing his mistake, transfixed by the horrible sight.

There was a steady dripping sound.

Drip…

Drip…

The ghastly sound of blood…

With a loud sob, Dante sank to his knees, lifting her head up and frantically checking her pulse, his fingers shaking.

Death forever froze her in eternal stillness.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Mary, Dante buried his face into the wound he had inflicted; sobbing into her chest, letting her blood stain his face, purify him in guilty flames…

He rocked back and forth, with her dead body in his arms; his eyes squeezed shut, teeth chattering.

_Now you have the final key, brother._

_It is time.

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_


	7. In War With Your Shadow

**Author's Note: Hey all, hope you guys are doing well. I'd like to explain one thing here by the way, the "voice" Dante keeps hearing is a darker aspect of his psyche, triggered by the trauma of his loss. It's a side he never thought existed, a sort of Dr. Jeykll and Mr. Hyde case scenario, kinda, except this demonic darkness was unintentionally awakened. In this chapter, as Dante's madness sinks to new, macabre levels, we realize he's getting more and more detached from reality. I'm sorry if this fic seems a bit confusing sometimes, but I'm presenting you a broad spectrum of possibilities as we go, and you are free to draw your own conclusions…Until this tragic drama unfolds. I can tell you now someone's going to die. Rest assured, it won't be Dante.**

**Seeker: Aw, I'm so glad to have you back –hugs- Hope everything's allright. Thanks for your positive and inspiring reviews. By the way, you got close, I'm from Australia, so yeah. -grins- I think the only institution Dante could end up would be jail for killing Mary…but that's not how the story goes…All I can say is wait and see… **

**VergilSparda666: Yeah, it is a bit creepy too now come to think of it…Thanks for reading. –hugs-**

**Anonymous: You're right about Mary having a purpose, she's my favourite out of DMC girls also, but I disagree with you on the OOC part, as fierce and headstrong and reserved she might be, she's not bound to stay that way forever as age creeps in, just like Dante's not the wisecracking smartass funboy he used to be. If you're referring to the scene where she tries to jump his bones, that was his imagination. You're about to find out. Aanyhow, is Mary really dead? Just read on and find out, if you so wish.

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**

"_It is time, Dante."_

_The half-demon teenager raised his head from where it was buried in his mother's chest, his face smeared with the warm blood from the gashing wound that had ended Eva's life. Tears blurred iced blue eyes as Dante stared at his twin in absolute disgust._

"_I'm not going!" He shouted, holding Eva's unmoving, limp body in his arms, his fingers tangling in her blood-caked flaxen tresses._

_The blue clad half-devil sighed with unconcealed impatience, tearing his gaze away from his dead mother, looking towards the door, his face darkening._

"_Why do you always have to make such a big drama? I grieve for mother also, but if you let your emotions overrule your reason all the time, you will never achieve power; the power of our father Sparda." Vergil glanced at his twin. "Come, Dante, they're waiting for us. We have much to do, brother." He continued with a touch of tenderness. If Vergil thought his words would inspire and motivate Dante, he was in for a nasty shock._

_Dante launched himself at Vergil bodily, slamming him into the hard wall, casing the delicate framed paintings to tremble violently. He grabbed his older twin by his blue collar, his face inches apart from Vergil's, growling like a madman and glaring at him through flood of tears._

"_Mum's dead, you jerk-off! She died trying to protect us from those monsters, and all you can think of is power? GO TO HELL, VERGIL!"_

_Vergil's eyes were burning orbs of fiery blue as he pushed Dante back with immense strength he drew upon his long-awakened devil essence. When Dante fell, Vergil kicked his younger twin in the ribs once, staring down at him coldly as Dante groaned and twitched on the ground._

"_Oh, I shall, Dante, I certainly shall. But at least I will enter the gates of Hell with pride, as a dark lord just like our father was once, while you will grovel like a belly-crawling snake! That's all you will ever be, Dante, a weakling, a fool!" Vergil hissed, his hands curling to fists at his sides._

_Dante moaned incoherently and rolled over to his mother, clutching her to him as if to never let go. Vergil had plunged a dagger deep into his heart, buried it deep, opening wounds that would never heal and forever fester. If power was synonymous with death and destruction and corruption of a noble soul, then his father could have it, Dante wanted no part of it._

"_Get out! I never want to see you, ever again! I don't have a brother!" Dante spat angrily, his face warping into a mask of perfect anguish and perfect hatred marred with tears._

_Silence._

_Then a metallic sound cut through the silence as Vergil took Rebellion and flung it at his brother._

"_Next time we meet, it will be under less pleasant circumstances, brother." He said, his voice lowering. "Next time we meet, that sword will be sticking out of your chest. So you'd better start putting it to good use, unless you want to suffer the same fate as our mother."_

_Vergil turned with a flourish of his blue trench, walking out of the door. The lock clicked into place with a soft, quiet sound as the door closed. _

_Dante hugged his mother still, holding her in his trembling embrace as he rocked back and forth on the floor…_

_He wanted to go to Vergil, turn him around and beg him to come back, that he didn't mean what he had said…That they were twins, and were not meant to be separated from one another…_

"_Don't go Vergil…Come back…You promised you wouldn't leave me…" Dante wept, then whispered to the emptiness; all that was left from his brother…_

"_You promised…"

* * *

_

Dante gathered Mary's dead body in his arms and went upstairs to his bedroom, kicking the door open in his usual style. He laid her on the bed very gently as one lays sacred offerings on an altar, reverently.

He stroked her dark hair, marvelling how even in death, her beauty had not vanished, but only paled as a bright red rose pales with a final sigh of season's change.

Dante filled a glass bowl with cold water and grabbed a white cloth, cleaning up the horrid wound, then wiping the blood off her face gently, slowly. He trailed the wet cloth along Mary's lifeless lips, adoring their faded cherry hue…

Then, he went to the bathroom to dispose of the soiled water, switching the electric light on.

He saw a haggard man in the mirror; wan, crestfallen, forlorn. White locks hung about a pasty skinned face, with prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes.

_What are you waiting for…You have the two amulets, you have the blood of the priestess, it is time to revive that which was once revered and worshipped, so you can gain access to the demon world, and finish off Mundus._

Dante's hair stood on end, sweat ran down his face in rivulets.

"We have a crucial problem, brother. Both our blood is needed for the ritual to work, and…You're dead."

Dante was caught in a vicious circle, suffocating all that was good in him.

_The original key had been our father's all along. It is the blood that runs both in our veins. You know that._

Dante took a step toward the mirror, staring into his face, which had taken on a strange, greyish tinge; his lips were a thin line of sickly blue, as pale as his eyes…

Somewhere off the distance, guns pumped through the air, followed by men screaming obscenities and the siren of a police car approaching.

A straight razor gleamed on the side of the sink, innocently.

Unable to bear to look at his reflection anymore, with all his might borne of his angst, Dante slammed his fist into the mirror. The glass shattered instantaneously, the broken shards falling to the ground at his feet.

Lights flickered, then went out.

From inside the bedroom, came a strange noise like that of a wet, heavy body of a mutilated mannequin slithering on the ground.

Towards the bathroom.

Dante's heart ceased to beat, as he listened.

_Look now what you've done…_

_Now you'll have to kill her all over again._

_Do you have the guts, Dante?_

_Can you kill your friend, like you killed me, brother?_

_Would you kill her, for my sake, for my redemption?_

_Or would you rather kill yourself?_

_Which will you choose, brother?

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_

**Reviews are greatly appreciated guys, but you already know that. -smiles-**


	8. Hide And Seek

**Author's Note: Hey folks! Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. You're great! Another short chap, bit more flashbacks that's important to the story, some boring symbolism and Dante's realized there's something terribly wrong with him…A turning point in the fic, and now, we're slowly getting close to the end…**

**To Velvet; first, thanks for reading, regarding your question, this fic is by no means a yaoi. There won't be any romance in this story, hope your not disappointed; I'm just focusing on Dante's "psychosis". By the way, I've got nothing against yaoi, but I'll still read it, it's just not my cup of tea, although I totally love "Survivor" by VergilSparda666, which is an awesome yaoi fic, and probly the only one I like so far, considering I prefer het tendencies in fics in general.**

**Anonymous reviewer: all I have to say is artistic license is sooo undervalued. If this fic doesn't appeal to you, you're by no means under any obligation to read it, although I thank you for taking your time to read and review it anyways. I'm not sure what you mean by "you're after the author" though. –blinks- Last time I checked, I was only after a can of coke…and I didn't even have enough loose change on me –glares at coke vendor- Oh well, –shrugs- Meh, can't please everyone, my job taught me that a long time ago. –le sigh- (Dealing with public isn't one of the most pleasant jobs in the world. Off topic still I'd hate to be stuck in an office…aanyways) **

**AnonymityX: Thank you for your encouraging words, and thanks for reviewing.**

**Seeker: Wohoo, good luck to you with the cleaning! –sniffles- I clean the house every bloody day, do the ironing and wash up and I don't get paid a cent. –grins- Sokay but, I'm a neatfreak and you're a champ! –nod- Yup, the voice is Dante's baddie twin, or so he thinks, because it's actually Dante's dark half. Wait, now I'm getting confused too lol. Thing is, Dante doesn't understand the situation he's in. He thinks Vergil could be redeemed by …–blinks- wait…-le sigh- me and my mouth again –grins- Well, not sure if this story's going to have a happy ending... I doubt it. But this chapter is not so sad, in fact by far the cheeriest one I could manage! –hugs and vanishes to get her coke fix-

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_For Dante, stormy weather and darkness never mixed well, ever. The trees rustled outside and the wind groaned against the windows, stirring the imagination to conjure up all sorts of spooky images for the twelve year old._

_Dante clutched the blankets around him; tired eyes wide open as he glanced about the room; desperate for sleep, but unable to immerse himself into the gentle waters of slumber. It was like a nightmare, especially when lightning flashed and woke shadows in the corners._

"_Verge…Verge! Wake up!" The white haired boy called below in an urgent whisper._

_There was a quiet yawn._

"_What's up?" The soft, reassuring voice of the older twin came from the lower bunk._

"_Can we turn on the light?" _

"_No Dante…Look, just go back to sleep, it's gonna be okay."_

_Dante sighed. "There's something in the room, Verge. What if it's a ghost?" He asked in a fearful murmur, swallowing childish pride. When sun was out and day was bright, Dante was brave to the point of foolhardiness. But when daylight waned and nightfall held the sky in its black grasp, Dante's confidence and courage diminished significantly, while his twin seemed unaffected.  
_

"_Where?" Vergil asked quietly from below._

"_It's in the shadows…over there, Verge."_

"_Are you scared?"_

"_Yeah…"_

_Vergil was quiet a moment or so, then he closed his eyes and yawned again before he continued._

"_Say; "Hide and seek, shadow creep; red and blue, we will find you." Vergil said sleepily, not quite sure what he was saying anymore as long as Dante left him alone as the older twin slowly began to drift back to semi-sleep._

_Dante blinked in confusion at the strange rhyme._

"_What's that mean? It sounds weird."  
_

"_Just say it, Dante. It'll scare the ghosts away. Promise, nothing will harm you Dant." _

_The rhyme's soothing effect washed over Dante, especially when his twin repeated it._

"_Okay…" Dante snuggled under the covers, rolling over to his side and repeated the chant over and over until he was exhausted, at which point he didn't care if there was a menacing black tendril across the wall next to the bed…

* * *

_

_Get a grip, Dante!_

Dante nodded to himself slowly, ignoring the dark that obliterated his soul.

"Hide and seek…shadow creep…" He called to the darkness around him, feeling his courage returning.

The awful noise from the bedroom ceased.

He took a deep breath, and slipped out of the bathroom slowly, blue irises wide and alert, searching the murky dimness for the body…

_It can't be you, Lady. It never was you... _

_Then why do I feel so disappointed? I should be relieved. But I'm not, my friend._

He couldn't see Mary, or any trace of the corpse at all.

But Dante could sense the presence of another.

Someone…something with not so benevolent intentions.

And of palpable evil.

Dante's shadow gathered in a mass in the centre of the room, with an unholy hiss gained shape and solidity, giving life to that which had been lain dormant for so long since the fall of Temen-ni-Gru.

The Doppelganger, no more under control of a strong devil will, freed by the misery and despair that reigned in Dante's spirit, lashed out wildly with jet tentacles, assuming its true shape.

The tendrils wrapped around Dante, lifting him off the ground and beginning to constrict him. Dante clenched his jaw and struggled against the slimy black substance that was slowly crushing him, draining his life force.

"Hide and Seek…" He whispered.

He wrenched one arm free from the shadow's strong, cold tendril.

"Shadow creep…" Dante twisted in the monster's grip and fumbled for his sword frantically. Feeling the hilt of a blade beneath his fingers, he drew the sword and drove it into the heart of the monster with all the strength he could summon to his taut, weakened muscles.

"Red and Blue, I will find you!" He shouted.

A piercing shriek, then a wail…

Dante felt the demon's hold loosening, releasing him slowly, and he fell to the floor abruptly when the Doppelganger bled back into its silhouette form, willfully merging with Dante to become part of one powerful entity once again.

An entity made of dark and light.

Sweaty face was turned to the sword, lips curling in a smile, -genuine, confident- kissing its blade.

He realized he had been holding the sword's hilt tightly with trembling fingers still.

Then Dante began to laugh.

He didn't know why it felt so good, but he felt his spirit soar with new-found excitement and relief, joining his grief, and his sorrow, even as hot tears pricked his eyes and streamed down his laughing face.

The ancient heirloom sword in his hand was not the Force Edge.

It was the Rebellion.

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